


Wait A Minute

by comically_so (knobblyfruit), knobblyfruit



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-30
Updated: 2008-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:44:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knobblyfruit/pseuds/comically_so, https://archiveofourown.org/users/knobblyfruit/pseuds/knobblyfruit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brad got in a fight with furniture and lost. Ryan is concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait A Minute

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted some concerned!Ryan so after watching the Hollywood Director game in ep 6x02 about a million times, I came up with this.

Ryan gently lifted Brad’s t-shirt up and over his head and spread has hands across the newly-revealed chest, marveling at the feel of soft skin beneath his fingers. He’d been waiting for this for over three days and, dammit, now he was finally gonna get it.

He glanced up at his lover’s face and smirked. There was that strange look of half love/half lust that Ryan absolutely adored. Mostly because it was the one look that was reserved for only him. No one else got to see it. He made sure of that.

The smirk on his face developing into a grin, Ryan captured Brad’s lips with his own and pushed him toward to bed. The younger man tumbled on to it with a slight bounce, legs still dangling off the side. Ryan followed him down, nearly pinning him down.

Brad finally sat up and, with both hands clutching the front of Ryan’s shirt, moved further into the bed to get a more comfortable position, never once breaking the kiss. Their tongues fought each other for dominance, until Ryan finally broke it off to move down Brad’s neck. He could feel the breath hitch in Brad’s throat as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. His hands continued to roam across Brad’s body.

Partly to savor every inch of his lover’s skin and partly to drive Brad crazy, Ryan worked his way down slowly. He kept his eyes wide open, wanting to see what he was tasting, as if he didn’t already have Brad’s body memorized, like he didn’t already know every nook and cranny by heart.

Ryan smiled as he pressed the heel of his hand gently against the crotch of Brad’s jeans. The gasp that resulted went to straight to Ryan’s groin.

“Jesus Christ, Ryan, *do* something…” The words were more groaned out than actually spoken, and Ryan thought it was possibly the hottest thing he’d ever heard.

He looked up at his boyfriend to see his head thrown back against the bedpost. “Beautiful,” Ryan mumbled, going back to leaving a trail of kisses down Brad’s body.

He'd just laid a hand on the fly of Brad's jeans when he suddenly stopped. Didn’t move a muscle.

There was a minute of silence before Brad spoke up. “Is something wrong?”

There was no mistaking the frustration in his voice, but Ryan ignored it. “I don’t know,” he replied, staring at Brad’s side. The skin there seemed to be one huge blotchy bruise, brownish purple with yellow fading at the edges. It even stretched onto Brad’s back. He gently ran fingers across the ribcage and immediately felt a barely perceptible wince. “What the hell happened, Brad?” he asked, fighting to keep the anger out of his voice. _If anyone’s laid a hand on you…_

He watched as Brad leaned over just enough to see what Ryan was talking about. To his surprise, Brad laughed. “It’s just a bruise, Ry.”

Ryan stared at him incredulously. “Just a bruise? It looks like someone took a baseball bat to you!”

Brad leaned back and sighed, seeming to realize that he wasn’t getting anything tonight if he didn’t tell Ryan what had happened. “You remember the taping a few days ago? During ‘Hollywood Director’ when I fell backwards with a chair and a table?”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed at the memory. “Yeah…”

“Yeah. Well, let’s just say I got into a fight with the chair and the chair won.” The bright smile on Brad’s face was a clear sign he was hoping they’d be done with this particular line of conversation and get back to what they were doing before.

But Ryan wasn’t finished. “You…why didn’t you say anything?”

Brad frowned, confusion crossing his face. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Dan, we need to stop the show because Braddy has a boo-boo.’ Yeah, that would have gone over well.” He rolled his eyes. “And now you’ve gone and made me mention Dan. Way to ruin the mood, Ry.”

Ryan let that last comment slide, still stuck on the fact that Brad had been hurt. “If it looks this bad now, it must have looked really bad then. You should have had the studio nurse check it out. There might have been a cracked rib or something.”

The younger man stared at him in disbelief. “It’s not a cracked rib! Or a broken rib! It’s a bruise and I’m horny as hell! So could we move on?!”

“No. You should have said something about it after the taping then, at the very least.” Ryan looked back down at the wounded skin and reached out to feel its tenderness, wishing he could make it go away with just a touch.

Suddenly Brad’s hands were on his cheeks, pulling him up until they were face-to-face. “I’m an idiot, Ry. You know that, right? You know you’re dating a complete moron? I did something stupid for a laugh, and I paid for it. Yes, it hurt. But not that badly. And it certainly wasn’t as bad as you keep going on about. I’ve done much worse more than once, and if you want me to tell you about them all, then I hope you’ve got a few hours to kill and nice couch to sleep on because if I don’t get any tonight then you don’t get any for the next week.” He hesitated before adding, “…as much as I appreciate your concern.” He dropped his hands from Ryan’s face.

Ryan rolled off Brad until he was lying on his back right next to him. “I just don’t like…I mean, I wish you would have said something to me."

"Fine! Next time I get a paper cut, you'll be the first to know."

"Brad…" The unspoken warning in Ryan's voice was clear: "Quit being a sarcastic dickhead."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." There was no sound besides the blankets rustling underneath them as Brad squirmed around to a more comfortable position. Then a few minutes worth of silence before he spoke up. "Is there a particular reason…?"

Ryan sighed. "I…I don't know." He stared up at the ceiling, feeling Brad's eyes on him. "Maybe we should just forget about it."

But if there was one thing he always forgot about when it came to Brad, it was that the younger man had the uncanny ability to read his mind.

When Brad didn't answer, Ryan tore his eyes away from the ceiling to look at him. Only to see a smirk that Greg Proops would be proud of.

Ryan frowned suspiciously. "What?"

"You really thought someone came after me with a baseball bat?" The smirk was turning into a disbelieving grin.

"What? No, I –"

"You did too!" Brad managed to say through his laughter. "You wanted me to tell you who did it so you could track them down and kick their ass!" He stopped to catch his breath, but dissolved into giggles all over again when he saw the blush creep into Ryan's cheeks. "My God, you really are bound and determined to be the man in this relationship!"

The smirk appeared on Ryan's face almost automatically. "I have to be. I don't see you stepping up to the challenge."

That shut Brad up. Ryan would have been worried if he couldn't practically *hear* the gears whirring in his lover's brain.

Almost before Ryan could blink, Brad had moved on top of him and was pinning him to the bed. He leaned down for a long, slow kiss that left Ryan breathless. "I think you're sweet for wanting to protect me, babe," he said softly. "You know that?"

Ryan could only nod, his voice apparently stolen with that kiss.

Then a grin that could only described as evil spread across Brad's face. "Good." He leaned over to whisper in Ryan's ear. "Now let me show you who the man in this relationship really is…"

END.


End file.
